


From Ala Mhigo, With Love

by EruGhostCat



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: ARR-SHB, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 05:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20577158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EruGhostCat/pseuds/EruGhostCat
Summary: A collection of Lyshtola oneshots that are too tiny and random to post by themselves.





	1. The Banquet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's start with ARR feels hahah

The banquet at Ul’dah was as grandiose as Y’shtola expected, nobles and delegates congregating about a table filled with plates upon plates of the finest foods. Yda was practically salivating at the large honey glazed Dodo at the center of the table, only turning away when Papalymo discreetly smacked the leg of her red sabatons. Mayhap that was why she kept her legs so guarded-- Papalymo could only reach so high thus necessitating those metal gauntlets to get her attention without injuring himself. She shook her head in amusement at such idle musing. 

Minfilia parted with their group to speak with Alphinaud. The young Elezen was true to his nature and already neck deep in cordial conversation with the delegates. Thancred easily slipped into the crowd, though Y’shtola wasn’t sure if it was due to his natural predilection to stealth or purposeful avoidance of jilted lovers. 

For her part, she found a comfortable spot close to the wall to observe the festivities. She may be perceived as antisocial to some, but she had no problem conversing with someone should they approach her. She simply preferred to be on the outside looking in. It helped her organize and analyze the situation more clearly.

Her odd childhood was spent mostly in the company of poroggos, animated brooms, and a self-isolationist which all together did not encourage the most outgoing personality in Y'shtola. It’s a truth she was a little insecure to admit, but she had trouble connecting to people. It was not entirely a problem. In fact, she used it to her advantage in her work as an Archon and a Scion-- barring any attachment or bias for specific city states or parties she aided. It allowed her to be neutral and, most importantly, _critical._ Working alone in her assignments was preferable as it gave her the most flexibility and control. Yet as her eyes lingered on Yda laughing and dancing in the crowd, she couldn’t deny the small tinge of loneliness that crept around the edges of her heart. 

Yda… the unexpected partner. They were quite different in many ways, but she felt a kindred spirit in her, if only because of the secret and lonesomeness the Hyur woman hid behind her mask. Despite the easy warmth she exuded, she oft kept everyone at arm's length to keep that secret. She was still unaware her closest friends already knew the truth. As a sister herself, Y’shtola was rather sympathetic to Yda’s predicament. She wished that the pugilist knew they would be there for her regardless of what name she used. Mayhap someday, she would tell Yda that herself.

The Alliance leaders were across the room, making nice with pleasantries and smiles to compensate for their lack of tangible support for Ishgard. She does not blame them, however, given the negligence Ishgard showed them when Eorzea needed them most. This event would prove to be an important step in mending fences on both sides.

“Hey, Y’shtola!”

She turned to her left, finding Yda grinning at her with a cup in her gloved hands. “Why’re you standing here by yourself? Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you, I’d rather keep my wits about me.” Y’shtola gave her a friendly smile, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah.” With a lax shrug, Yda gestured to the crowd, “I mean, it’s kinda stuffy with all these nobles and Papalymo won't let me take much food but it’s pretty nice. The dancing is fun. What are your thoughts?”

Y’shtola hummed, “They are acting as expected. Overall, I feel optimistic for the future of Eorzea ...regardless of the gaudy display.”

“Right. Um. I meant to ask if you’d-- uh, dance with me?”

The Miqo’te regarded her with surprise, “Oh. But I- Why ask me?”

The Hyur fidgeted nervously with the drink in her hand but did not turn her face from Y’shtola. “Well, erm, I like spending time with you. It was nice teaming up with you for some missions. I’d, uh, really like it if we could do so again in the future. Heh, I'm sure Papalymo could use the break.” 

Y’shtola’s expression softened and she looked down at the small space between them, “I’d… enjoy that as well.”

The warm smile she received in response had Y’shtola reconsidering how she felt about dancing. She stepped closer to Yda and motioned towards the band, “Though I am inexperienced in any sort of dancing, I see no reason to refuse you. I’m afraid you will just have to teach me.”

“Alright!” Yda beamed at her, put her cup down on one of the flower pots and excitedly led her into the crowd with a calloused hand holding hers. 

She showed her a dance, her movements easy and limber given her physical prowess. Y’shtola tried her best to mirror her, though she couldn’t help but feel she that she must have looked quite strange. The joyful expression Yda gave her erased any self doubts she had and she soon sunk into the moment. The rest of the crowd faded into the background, muted against tiled walls and ornate plants. There was only Yda and the beat of the percussion reverberating in Y'shtola's bones and the breathlessness that was starting to catch up to her. Gods, if Mhitra saw her right now, she’d never let her live it down… 

After several minutes, the song ended and Yda giggled, “That was fun!” 

“Glad you were entertained. I think I better stick to observing.” Y’shtola shook her head with a soft chuckle of her own. It was in the pause between songs that she heard how loud her heart was beating.

“Aww, okay. Thanks for the dance, Y’shtola.” Yda touched her arm with that sweet smile of hers, lingering for a moment longer before she noticed Papalymo waving her over. Y’shtola felt she would never grow tired of her smile, imprinting it in her memory as if it was the last thing she’d ever see.

She watched Yda walk away and sighed at herself. That soft spot she held for Yda was going to get her killed someday.


	2. Another Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormblood. After you knOW WHAT happened.

Her last thought as the sword broke through the barrier and sliced through her was that she failed.

She failed the Resistance, the Scions, and most of all… she failed Lyse.

Y’shtola was not a fool, she knew very well that she could not stop Zenos, only that her efforts might buy Lyse time to escape. To live, to grow, to accomplish her dreams. But she only halted his assault for mayhap five seconds. 

'Twas not long enough.

A shuddering breath escaped her as the world went silent and numb around her, mutely sensing her own aether bursting from her body at the impact and all too quickly draining from her as her knees crashed to the ground. Then, nothing.

She awoke, groggy and aching, but_ alive_.

Somehow, once again, she woke up when she had resigned herself to a final moment. Where was Lyse-- was she alive too? How did Y’shtola get here? Did the Scions find and take her here?

As her senses returned to her, she registered the sound of her breathing, the chronometer, the familiar feeling of her bedchamber’s sheets, and something else. Was that… snoring? It was light and came from just beside her bed, a weight dipping the side of it. She reached her shaking hand out, heavy and fragile, and connected with smooth hair splayed over a strong shoulder. 

“Wha- ...Shtola?” Came a startled response from a voice she would know anywhere. Lyse. “Oh, thank Rhalgr, you’re back!” 

Lyse’s hands squeezed hers, so warm and gentle. Thank Rhalgr, indeed, Y'shtola mused, though not for her own life but for the life of the woman beside her. 

“Did you think I would leave you to do all the work?” She weakly replied, but smirked all the same. 

“No, I suppose not.” Lyse chuckled softly, leading Y'shtola to easily recall the smile she so affectionately remembers. 

No, she did not fail her.


	3. Just a Thought

They sit at the little wooden table in their Ala Mhigan home having breakfast. It’s a pleasant and cozy morning, the windows left partially open to let in the light breeze. Lyse glances up from her full plate at her partner who’s quite happily savoring her cup of tea. Y’shtola hums over the rim, looking positively resplendent even with her snowy hair askew and clothed in but a simple white shirt and shorts. Lyse can’t help but smile, affection seizing her heart.

A random thought breeches her lips before she even thinks it through.

“Hey, Shtola, what do you think if we had kids?”

Y’shtola chokes on her tea, “Wh- Excuse me?” She coughs as she tries to reply, “I love you dearly, Lyse, but I don’t think the world could handle _ more _ of you.”

Lyse pouts at her, mouth half full of toast. “What's that supposed to mean?”

The Archon shrugs, “Honestly, I’m not sure the world could handle more of _ me_. Could you imagine that much chaotic energy in one child? And that's if we don’t end up with five. ‘Tis mayhap for the better that such a thing is not possible.”

Lyse blinks at her, processing what she just said before dropping her fork. “Wha.. _ Five _ ? Are you- _ in litters??? _” 

Y’shtola’s ears lower slightly as she gives her mate a withering look, “Y_es, litters._”

The Ala Mhigan crumbles over her plate, the position barely muffling her laughter. “Gods, Shtola, I’m not asking you to carry five of our children!” She looks up, wiping at her tears as she tries just to breathe, “I meant like, adoption or something!”

“Oh. Well. In a few years perhaps, when things have settled down and I am home more often. If that’s okay with you." The Archon's tone regains some of her usual composure. "Though I can not say I've ever considered raising children before.”

Lyse puts her hand over Y'shtola's, “Yeah, uh, it was just a random thought. I don’t even know if I’d be a good parent-- not _ now _ at least.”

“I’m sure you would be wonderful.” Y’shtola smiles. "We've both had rather unorthodox upbringings, but anything can be learned with enough patience and research."

Maybe it wasn't such a far fetched idea after all.


	4. bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Y'shtola meets your gaze with a strained smile. You seem to recall her wearing the selfsame expression when speaking with Lyse..."  
Stormblood

The music and chatter of Rhalgr’s Reach were overlapped by the sound of the waterfalls and the crackling of wood in the fire pits. The sun had set bells ago, leaving the settlement basking in the moonlight and stars of the night sky. It was so beautiful now, especially without the pitch black smoke of war hanging over them. The Scions, the Alliance, and several groups of soldiers and citizens alike had celebrated Ala Mhigo’s liberation at the Reach rather than the capital. Somewhere between praises from her fellow Resistance members and discussions with Raubahn and the Alliance about the future, Lyse lost track of her where her Scion friends wandered off to. She strode around the Reach looking for signs of them. Although she had announced she was leaving the Scions earlier that day, she still wanted to spend time with them as long as they were still around. When next they departed, she would not be going with them. 

Thancred was talking with the Ananta recruits while they partook in a little knife throwing competition by torchlight. From the hewn stone bridge over Starfall, Lyse could make out Krile’s unmistakable form in bright light of the chirurgeon wing. She went to and fro, checking upon the patients. Lyse wondered if Y’shtola was there too. _ “A healer’s job is never done” _ _ ,_ as they say _ . _ Urianger, on the other hand, was lurking under the arches of the building carved into the stone surrounding the Reach. He seemed to be occupied conversing with some traders. The twins had passed out by the campfires and tents. Alisaie leaned against a crate with her arms crossed, her brother’s head slumped slightly against her shoulder. Those kids have been through a lot. It’s a relief to see peaceful expressions on their faces. 

As Lyse walked along the sandy rock lining Starfall, she recognized the solitary figure sitting on the edge just a few fulms from the aethernet shard. She spared another glance at the lingering people in the settlement, all wrapped up in their own worlds. It gave her a sense of peace not to be needed, even if it was just for the meager hours of the night. With a steadying breath, she went to sit by her dear friend.

Y’shtola tilted her head at Lyse in greeting, “Ah, Commander Hext.”

“Please.” Lyse scoffed, “I’m just Lyse. Promise you’ll always call me Lyse.”

“Of course.” Y’shtola smiled faintly, the moonlight from the water reflecting off her features.

They sat in silence, the pleasant breeze gently ruffling their hair. 

“So, why are you sitting here?” Lyse asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Y’shtola shrugged, “I felt tired.”

Lyse had suspected the reason may lie in her still healing injury, though the other woman seemed to be fine. Y'shtola nodded towards the falls, “The sound is soothing, would you not say?”

“Yes it is, I like to meditate out here in the mornings sometimes. Or, you know, swim.” Lyse replied.

Y’shtola hummed in response, tapping her fingers on her knee.

“This is good for you.” Y’shtola said, her tone almost wistful. 

“How do you mean?”

“Staying in Ala Mhigo. Being their Commander.”

“Oh. Yeah, I hope so.” Lyse looked out over the sparkling water to the central monument of Bloodstorm, her voice wavering slightly in doubt. 

Y’shtola gently touched Lyse’s hand. “It is.”

Lyse would have thought it was an accident or a mistake if not for the way Y’shtola rested her hand on hers, squeezing softly with intention. Lyse looked to the other woman’s face for answers and found only that small simper Y’shtola’s been giving her often as of late. 

“Why do you look so… sad?” Lyse asked her, for lack of a better word to describe the expression. 

Y’shtola’s brows furrowed slightly, her smile fading entirely. “Forgive me, Lyse, ‘tis but a trivial thing.”

“If there’s something bothering you, I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Lyse offered.

The Miqo’te tilted her head back, seemingly gazing up to the skies or perhaps the statue of the Destroyer for guidance. After a lengthy pause, she ran her thumb over Lyse’s knuckles.

“I will miss you, is all.”

Lyse blinked in surprise, “Oh! Aw, I’ll miss you too, Y’shtola! That’s not a silly thing to feel at all. You are always welcome to visit.”

“I will try to. I confess, out of all the Scions, you are the one I am most close to.” Y’shtola turned to give her that smile again, though this time Lyse was sure she wasn’t imagining the tender affection reflected in her silvery eyes. 

Lyse scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Y’shtola. “I feel the same way. No distance will ever change that.”

The Archon sighed and after a moment's hesitation leaned into Lyse, encouraging her to hold her a little tighter. Finally, with a little weariness in her voice, Y’shtola replied, “Then let us enjoy this for however much time we have left, Lyse.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been drawing some lyshtola art so I'll be sharing some on the fics, you can find more of my art on my erughostcat tumblr.


End file.
